


Love, let’s talk about love 爱人，我们谈情说爱吧

by ironheart



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom T'Challa (Marvel), Cocky Erik Killmonger, Dirty Talk, Erik Killmonger Lives, M/M, Mirror Sex, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Erik Killmonger, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironheart/pseuds/ironheart
Summary: T’Challa had been used to Erik’s running mouth as Erik’ had been used to T’Challa’s conflicting heart.So be it. Endless were the sunsets in Wakanda, they had all the time in the kingdom to exchange opinions about other things, including love.





	Love, let’s talk about love 爱人，我们谈情说爱吧

**Author's Note:**

> Original author’s note:
> 
> A totally no brainer PWP. Dirty talk! Mirror Sex! Do from behind!  
> It goes with my expectation to these two beautiful bodies of Killchalla! All the OOC is my own doing! The more they are on each other’s body, the better! I own nothing. They belong where they belong.
> 
> This is a translation of a Chinese Erik/T’Challa fandom by 云小辛 (on Lofter) who puts lots of effort in KillChalla’s bedtime business with other fans. It is my pleasure to put her work into another language so that more ship members can share delightful moments reading KillChalla!
> 
> 本文由Lofter太太云小辛的Love, let's talk about love翻译而成，作者已授权（授权证明在下方），请中文读者点击下方链接支持太太！
> 
> If you like this work or have any thoughts reading it, please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos to support the author! Thank you very much!
> 
> Below are permission and link to the original work:
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://www.dumpt.com/img/viewer.php?file=inzxp9jq59gtfhvamelf.jpg)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Link: http://tiansinnn.lofter.com/post/1e03e923_1283307c

As soon as the king’s robe was torn apart, a vicious question came right of Erik’s wicked tongue. 

“Do you regret it?”

The killmonger lowered his head, sniffing in pettish along T’Challa’s neckline. Sweat mixed with estranged herbs rushed into his nose, driving him pinch the king’s nipples with his thumbs and forefingers with his sharp teeth clamming a piece of flesh of his neck, mouth sucking and picking. 

T’Challa didn’t reply and his breath became heavier for the man’s intimate tricks. He couldn’t help but exhale his warmness to the man’s earlobe, which made him let out a chuckle the second time. The young licked up behind his ear from his back, planting kisses to almost lure him into his trap, “Your Majesty, look up. Look up.”

They were in the Majesty’s chamber. T’Challa knew what he was going to see when he looked up and he was also clear that it would only bring trouble to himself if he refused his barb-skinned cousin——let alone he was not totally unwilling: he had his own subtle and shameful calculations. 

It was not surprising that what he saw when he looked up was consistent with his unspeakable speculation.

In front of him, was a mirror, the Majesty’s trying mirror. It was clean and large, able to reflect the depraved show on stage in this palatial place.

His cousin, his killmonger, G.I.Joe Erik was kneeling down on his bed, top naked, imprisoning him from behind. And he was sitting on the edge, facing the mirror. The man’s round fingers done tearing apart the collar, began to dally with his nipples of which the left one was too shaky to resist the temper to stand up. Finger nails scrapping that little thing, Erik’s tongue massaged the king’s jawline, leaving a trail of obscene saliva. “Cuz, lvk at your nipples.” said Erik. “Hard as chocolate.”

T’Challa’s ears were burnt by the words. He grabbed his deadlocks to pull him down for a kiss. “Shut it, Erik.”

Erik felt a sting with the king’s pull but he didn’t really care——your royal Majesty had every reason to lash out his emotions properly after all. On the other hand, a little bit of hurt added more juice in their bed.

So he used his gun-horny hands to explore further down, all the way to the king’s crotch. T’Challa broke his breath several times to kiss him, one of his hands were also scooping into his torn robe——last minute it was a high-end robe but now it was a pornographic costume with a deep open cut down to his stomach. He put his cousin’s hand onto his awaken cock, “Em, sometimes, I think your horns are in the right place.”

Erik was unhappy with his elegance at this moment but still held the hot cock of his and started to stroke. The horns valued by the king brushed against the hole and the wet shiny head only to make his cock drooping. Erick forced his mouth onto the man in his arms, sucking and picking his tongue with his teeth into his mouth——blowjob, as it might seem, but more like T’Challa was using his tongue fucking his cavity. T’Challa knew that was as much advantage as he could get in bed so he lazed down to enjoy the service, being himself, a true, powerful and determined king.

But it was perhaps all in his own thinking, by looking into the mirror, he would see his self-image breaking. The look of him was far from salvation: his robe was in pieces, clinging onto his shaking body. One of the sleeves had been taken off by Erik, uncovering his one side of flat shoulder and unexpectedly slim waist. When he turned, the man’s eyes behind would catch half of his ass and flank. Between them and the mirror was promiscuous——Erik’s moving hands kept working under the crotch of the white robe, propping up a bulge underneath. He was drowning in waves of heat and pleasure, inferno fire creaking in his head. Hot and cold were the violent tides and currents boiling in his body, challenging his reason and pride until he lost his battle ground.

Erik seemed tried of pleasing his Majesty for free as he let go of his lips before giving last stroke of his oily cock, fishing his hand back to slap on his butt cheek, “UP.” A sound seeped out of T’Challa’s nose, stating he was either feeling sore on his waist or just not interested in cooperating. Despite of that, he slowly pulled out of the man’s arms. The back piece of the silky robe slid down onto the floor, illustrating his perfect nude figure. A statue in the color of night, a teenage dream from some degraded artist——it was himself in the mirror in his eyes, the look around his eyes was beyond lost, a milky trail dribbled from the corner of his mouth slipping into his beard. The swollen nipples were calling for attention with their dark-brown skin appeared in mysterious redness. And then his cock, no matter how hard he tried, had been dripping crystal tears shamelessly, standing up against his stomach. Erik’s smiley voice came from behind, leading a cold and greasy thing against his hole, “No panties even in the Cabinet meeting huh?”

This fact left him disturbed to which he wanted to hide but chance was taken by his impudent cousin as he saw it. That lubed finger slipped into his hole in one shot. Watching his finger disappear into the shivering circle, Erik’s smile became wider. He finger-fucked his king as usual with one hand when another pinning down his waist. “I see ya take it well.” T’Challa could sense Erik’s hungry eyes stare at his hole while he was standing up naked in front of the mirror, having no way to hide. He moaned, in blushing, “Erik…No…get, get me to bed.”

Never would the heartless killmonger listen when he knew the Majesty was in heat . He had got his two firm fingers into his butt already as he shrugged, speaking, “I will.”

And he reached that non-touchable soft part deep inside. T’Challa was hit on the nerve that controlled pleasure, the Black Panther giving out a painfully sweet groan. He came——white drops shooting on his chin, chest and redden nipples. He legs gave in, as well as his body, into a pile of soft meat coming out of a steamy pot. Erik’s open arms were just behind, allowing him fall back and land it safely. Erik felt his cock hard, aching and swore a F word under his nose before he spread the kings’ legs onto his arms. “Babe, open your eyes——” Erik mouthed the words into his ear.

T’Challa obeyed, opening his eyes confusingly. He looked at the two entangled bodies in the mirror——he was lying in his cousin’s arms with his legs wide open when his belly and even the beard were covered by his own come. His cock was used, dropping submissively with the sac. But behind, his cousin’s dick was still sizable as ever.

He just looked, watching himself being forced open, penetrated, although gently, by that monster.

Erik’s voice was evil and sweet, “T’Challa, cuz, your Majesty…is it good?” He held the king’s tight waist while hammering his cock into his body, “I do you good?”

T’Challa were overwhelmed by orgasm as if the image of the big head of the cock grinding his prostate was shown in his brain. They had fucked too many times to allow his memory walk away from the size of Erik. He could feel the walls in his hole crashing fervently, welcome the veins-pumping cock. Like a kitten in mating season, he whimpered in pleasure, “Eri…Erik…”

Hearing his moaning, Erik fucked him even harder like it was the last thing he could do. T’Challa was aroused again, his half-full cock and sacs shaking along with his move, in harmony with the beats created by their body bumping. Both hands flattering the king’s strong inner thighs and teeth biting his earlobe, the man smiled in satisfaction, his two golden teeth exposed. “Ya hard again but ’mm too busy,” his tongue stuck out into his cousin’s ear in a tricking manner, “Touch it, T’Challa. Touch yourself for me.”

T’Challa followed the voice, putting his right hand to hold his awaken cock. He closed his eyes, not looking at that crying and wiggling person in the mirror, floating in the fire that Erik lit on his body in darkness——strong fever climbed up along his body, melting his waist and then his brain. His back, rubbing against the small bumps all over Erik’s body seamlessly, was itching while moving back and forth. It was a celebration of absurdity and joy, in his mind, in his hole, taking over what was left in his brain.

Erik’s moves became impatient. He bit on T’Challa’s shoulder when he came, roaring with the tip of his tongue moisted by the Panther’s blood——as his burning come splashed onto T’Challa’s cultivated hole, the king came too, trembling in his arms.

The man fell onto the king’s bed, taking T’Challa’s exhausted body with him and licking the bite wound he left on the shoulder.

“Now I regret it,” said T’Challa in a hoarse voice.

Erik was stunned for a minute and then he realized that was an answer to what he had asked before all of this began. 

He was not mad at all, instead, he smiled happily, hugging his cousin closer. Within his arms, the king continued, “I should have buried you in the ocean.”

“Maybe, I’d become Ursula——” Erik gave a pat on his ass, moving his finger to play with the steaky semen pouring out of his hole with a crafty smile on his face, “Then we’ll have soooooo much fun.”

T’Challa had been used to Erik’s running mouth as Erik’ had been used to T’Challa’s conflicting heart.

So be it. 

Endless were the sunsets in Wakanda, they had all the time in the kingdom to exchange opinions about other things, including love.

END


End file.
